Out of Sight
by NickeltheRed
Summary: He has survived too many centuries without getting roped into such a personal dilemma—he shouldn't start pondering over one like her now. Sebastian/Elizabeth/Ciel subtext.


**Another experiment for the Halloween!**

**Happy Harvest.**

**This was also inspired by elements of the British play _Doctor Faustus_. **

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><p>The townsfolk host their annual outdoors All Hallows Eve Feast and Festival. The other visitors—including Elizabeth—are all huddled together around the crackling flames, drinking spiced punch, as they listen to the hired actors recite their dramatic ghost stories.<p>

Meanwhile he stands beside the Master's bench feet away.

Even now, under her lacy skirts, fine velvet seasonal cloak and her flowing yellow curls, the demon can see her own fire bottled deep within. Elizabeth's fellow young maidens and Countesses of court are frail, somewhat prudish and pristine with their soft submissive eyes—though _hers _are passionate and determined. She does not shriek at the scary parts when the rest of them do. She merely giggles whenever the actors leap and growl at her unexpectedly and then waits for the rest of the story.

The Watch Dog's wife is unique in that way.

Everything about her is similar, yet so incredibility different.

The tone she uses around the Master at home is always forced and overly sweet. It drips with innocence...not to mention, how _grating_ it is to his ears. But the regular tone she uses in private is naturally set lower, unfazed, and carries a hint of delightful sarcasm.

The demon wonders for an instant if he's falling in love with her, since he really doesn't mind watching the way her body moves, the way her fingers shift over the silverware he sets out for her, or even catching the pointed looks she shoots in his direction whenever he speaks a witty comment. In fact, he enjoys watching her most if she giving the Master the silent treatment and her jaw clamps down like stone. Quite honestly, his favorite thing about her is how she appears to appreciate thunderstorms. She'll gaze in awe and longing out of the window, grinning each time the room flashes in color as the lightning strikes... Whereas the Master spends hours despising the storms and tries his hardest not to jump at the loud sounds.

He does _like _working with Ciel because the boy has seen his wings before. He knows what he is. Although when he is connecting with _Elizabeth_, she believes he is a real person, one who has a heart and soul all his own. And that amuses him. Though that idea of love passes again. Besides, really, a demon wouldn't know how to love a human any more than a liar would love telling the truth. He has survived too many centuries without getting roped into such a personal dilemma—he shouldn't start pondering over one like her now. It might tie a knot in is nature that he probably couldn't untangle so easily.

He will just continue playing his Master's game from here, as she plays a game entirely of her own...one that he still wishes he could join more often, just to keep things more interesting. Something _darker_ inside of him is definitely beginning to stir. He knows it has been happening since a month after the official wedding day.

So he has become a sense of rebellion and escape she's been yearning for some days. So she has cornered him in the corridors and has secretly kissed him out of mere curiosity, and with an unspoken desire that the Master evidently couldn't satisfy just yet. So she has made him drunk with pride and lust one other morning before breakfast, and again, they have pretended they're lovers. So, once, she's had her little funny way of blinding him with greed and jealously another random afternoon, briefly making him want to kill the Master himself for even looking at her.

But, what of it?

The true meaning of Hell is not always the place—it's a _concept_—it is knowing something good and luxurious and never having it again. The Fallen Ones have even seen God's real face and they will never know that Peace again.

Sooner or later, it happens. Demons come to re-want what they know they cannot and should not have.

For Ciel simply desires to _protect_ his wife from any impending danger that may come their way, and keep her virtue intact for long as possible. However, if _he_ would ever have his way...he would _unleash_ her. _He _would allow her to come undone, to shout and cry and corrupt herself. _He_ would bathe in that suppressed fury of hers. Sometimes_ he_ has the fantasy of igniting that wildfire, letting it consume all in its path. He pictures her dancing gracefully over all the raining tears, wrath, bloodshed, and passion that comes to surround her.

He believes Master Ciel is missing out on something horribly amazing and sensational, or whether, Master Ciel could be _avoiding_ that version of her completely.

Those hidden moments of being with her are nothing but fleeting shadows of the past. They just quietly disappear from sight and mind as soon as she puts her ladylike mask back on again—rather reluctantly so.

It has to be as it is. They both remember this whenever they turn their backs on each other, naturally going about their days.

It isn't until much later that All Hallows Eve night, when Elizabeth is getting ready for bed in the adjacent room and he is studying the Master's eye patch...it suddenly dawns on him.

Wouldn't be glorious if _he_ really could free the Master's wife? Erase the falsehoods? Unchain her from those saint-like bonds? If he could rip the _Lizzie the Watch Dog's Wife_ cover off of Elizabeth and set her running wild?

If so, all he has to do is wait it out.

One day, the Master will be gone and dead in the ground, and then _he_ will be in her.

"...Sebastian, what are you smirking at?"

"The future, Master, that is all."

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><p><strong>I humbly request positive comments or constructive criticism only, please. Thank you!<strong>


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